


A Lover Wants

by carolinecrane



Series: Devotion [10]
Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ares tries to break the truth to Joxer gently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lover Wants

"Do you think he'll really go through with it?"

"Do ya think he really should?"

Cupid shot a disapproving glance at Strife, but before he had a chance to answer Aphrodite looked up from the scroll she'd been pretending to read for the past ten minutes. "He hasn't got a choice. He can't just go on pretending there's some dead mortal somewhere down at Hades' place. Eventually Joxie would catch on. He's not nearly as dumb as everyone thinks."

"Yeah, but if Unc fesses up do ya really think Jox is evah gonna wanna see him again?"

"Come on, Strife, of course he will. They love each other, it doesn't matter what happened in the past. The point is they're together now." Cupid nodded firmly and glanced at his mother for approval, but she just bit her lip and wrapped a golden curl around her index finger.

"I hope so," she said after a long pause, during which both younger gods grew increasingly more nervous for Ares' chances. "I mean it's Joxie, and he's a very forgiving guy. But it is a pretty big lie."

"But you told Dad to tell him," Cupid said, his eyes wide as he watched his mother fidget.

"Well he has to," Aphrodite shot back, crossing her arms over her chest and sticking out her bottom lip in her best pout. "I'm sure it'll be fine. They love each other, Joxie just doesn't know it yet."

"Ya shoulda just shot him and handed him over, Cupe," Strife said. He leaned back on the overstuffed white couch and focused his gaze on the ceiling, schooling his features into an impatient scowl so the others wouldn't notice how nervous he was. If it was anybody else he would have found a way to sneak into the garden, shield or no shield, and stirred up a little mischief. A well-timed shove or a rock that hadn't been in Ares' path a moment before would have been enough to force him into Joxer's arms, but even that thought didn't cheer Strife up. He was too worried that he was right, and any minute now Joxer was going to burst through the doors and demand to be sent as far away from Ares as possible.

He knew love was Aphrodite and Cupid's gig and he should probably trust that they knew what they were getting Ares into, but he'd seen enough of mortals messing up a good thing to wonder if Joxer would be able to see past the lie. Even his own cousin Xena went around denying she was in love with her best friend, and all because she had some weird hang-up about peace. And if it wasn't messed up that Xena would sacrifice her own happiness just to get back at her father for not being around when she was growing up, he didn't know what was. So he didn't have a lot of faith in Joxer's reaction to the truth, because even though he liked Joxer more than he liked most mortals – and gods, for that matter – he was still a mortal.

When Aphrodite had told him and Cupid that Ares was planning to tell Joxer the truth his first reaction had been to try to stop him, to talk some sense into his uncle before it was too late. He still didn't understand why Ares couldn't just keep going the way things were; considering the amount of time Joxer spent asking him questions about Ares it was obvious he liked him, and eventually it would develop into full-blown love. Again. His uncle's problem was just that he was too impatient; if he'd just given Joxer some time to get over it they would have gotten together eventually. Strife had waited almost fifty years for Cupid to come around, after all, so if anybody knew the value of wearing somebody down it was him.

Not that any of his family members ever thought his experience counted for much. Even Cupid had pretty much ignored all his attempts to be the voice of reason; granted, he wasn't known for being rational or anything, but he understood the way his uncle's mind worked a lot better than either of them, whether they wanted to admit it or not. He and Ares were both House of War, and even if he got on his uncle's nerves a lot it was only because they were too much alike. Maybe not on the surface, and he wasn't as big into brooding and acting like the big, scary King of the Warlords the way Ares was, but they thought alike and he knew his uncle had to be at least a little worried that he was making a big mistake.

He didn't bother trying to point any of that out to his aunt or his lover, though; he knew they'd just ignore him, and anyway it was too late. Ares was already in there talking to Joxer, which meant that it would all be over any minute now. He let out a sigh and shifted his gaze a little to the right, reaching for Cupid's hand when he caught the blond god watching him. Cupid smiled gratefully and moved closer, letting Strife wrap an arm around him and run his fingers idly through thick, sun-kissed hair. It would just make Cupid feel worse if he said what they were all thinking out loud, so he swallowed his fear and focused on the feeling of Cupid's weight against his side instead of what was going on out in the garden.

~

Sometimes it bothered Ares that his family insisted on doing everything by committee. It certainly wasn't helping to know that they were all sitting just on the other side of the massive door that led out of the garden, just waiting for him to mess things up with Joxer. He didn't have to see them there to know they were waiting; even if he hadn't been able to sense them when he entered the garden, he knew them well enough to know they couldn't resist hanging around.

It had gotten to be a habit, meeting Joxer in Dite's garden every afternoon. He wondered if Joxer looked forward to their conversations as much as he did; whether he thought about Ares after he left, if he wondered why Ares had taken such an interest in him. It was tempting to look into Joxer's mind for the answers to his questions, but no matter how worried he was that he was making a mistake, he couldn't bring himself to break Joxer's trust that way.

Knowing he hadn't invaded Joxer's thoughts didn't make it any easier for him to approach the quiet figure leaning against Dite's favorite pear tree, his eyes closed and a lock of hair falling across his forehead. When he reached Joxer the mortal didn't open his eyes, and for a moment Ares thought he might have fallen asleep. He smiled in spite of his nervousness and crouched down next to Joxer, reaching out on impulse and pushing the stray lock of dark hair away from his forehead.

As soon as his fingers brushed warm skin Joxer's eyes opened, a smile lighting up his features when he recognized Ares. It wasn't the first time he'd touched Joxer since his stay on Olympus began, but each time they made contact Ares found it a little harder to stop at a simple touch. Part of him thought Joxer might even welcome something more, but he couldn't be sure and he didn't want to run the risk of pushing things too far to fast. He knew he had to tell Joxer the whole truth and let him make a decision based on the lies Ares had told him. It was the only way; Dite had told him that enough times now that he actually believed it, and if he and Joxer were going to have a chance to grow closer he didn't want any more lies between them.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his own nerves and the stillness of the garden making his voice sound too loud.

Joxer shook his head and sat up, drawing his knees to his chest to wrap his arms around them. Ares settled next to him, careful not to lean far enough into the smaller man to make contact. He wanted to feel the comforting weight of Joxer’s warmth pressed against his shoulder the way he used to when Joxer was young, when they spent countless hours in the woods outside Araxova wondering about the future.

That had all been lies too, though, and Ares knew he didn’t have any right to feel reassured by Joxer’s presence. He didn’t have a right to expect forgiveness, and he had no idea how to tell Joxer the truth. He couldn’t just open his mouth and say it, not without at least trying to make Joxer understand why he’d felt the need to lie. The problem was that he just wasn’t any good at this sort of thing; he wasn’t used to having to explain himself to mortals or gods, and now that it mattered he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it.

Joxer still hadn’t said anything, and his silence wasn’t helping Ares feel any more at ease with the situation. He couldn’t tell just by looking at him if Joxer was nervous or if he was just picking up on Ares’ tension, but things hadn’t ended that well the last time they spoke and for all he knew Joxer didn’t want to see him anymore. He cleared his throat and mirrored the mortal’s posture, staring straight ahead as he searched for the right way to start a conversation he’d hoped never to have.

“You’re still here. I expected you might have asked Dite to send you back to Xena by now.”

“She seems busy,” Joxer answered, his voice softer than usual. “I haven’t been able to pin her down long enough to tell her I’m ready to leave, anyway.”

“Gods are almost always busy,” Ares said, stealing a quick glance at the other man. Joxer was staring down at the ground in front of him, and it was hard to resist the temptation to reach out and brush his hair back from his face again. He wasn’t sure how many more chances he’d have to do that, and even casual touches made him feel a little closer to Joxer. “Keeping track of mortals is difficult work.”

Joxer frowned, glancing at Ares and blushing when he realized the god was watching him. “Something wrong?” Ares asked, struggling to force his usually authoritative tone into something a little closer to Joxer’s gentle voice.

“No, it’s just…I wasn’t really expecting to see you again. I’m sure you’re even busier than Aphrodite.”

Ares stopped just short of rolling his eyes at himself; he could have kicked himself for being so bad at this, especially considering he was a god. He shouldn’t find himself justifying his behavior to any mortal, not even one he’d been in love with for years. Being the god of War didn’t do much to prepare him for the art of conversation, though, and he’d never stopped to think that Joxer might wonder why Ares had suddenly taken such an interest in him.

“I have Strife and Eris to keep track of the details,” he said, hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt. It wasn’t really a lie; Strife and Eris did work with him, and Athena kept up her end of things as well. He’d never felt comfortable letting his subordinates have any real control, though, and any one of his family members would be able to tell Joxer that Ares was easily one of the busiest gods on Olympus. Still, he had to say _something_ , and it was better than admitting the truth before he’d prepared Joxer to hear it. “Love is far less predictable than war, at any rate. Dite’s work is more about chance than strategy.”

He cringed at how ridiculous that explanation sounded, but if Joxer thought so he didn’t let on. Instead he nodded and fixed his attention back on the ground again. “Can I ask you a question?”

Ares nodded slowly, bracing himself for the question he feared was coming. He had no idea how to answer it if Joxer asked, but he knew he had to be honest. And maybe it would give him an opening to start the conversation he'd come here to have, because at the rate things were going he wasn't sure he'd ever get around to the truth on his own.

"Why are you here? I know you saved my life and I'm grateful, but I've been thinking about it for days and I can't understand why you keep coming to see me."

It was a struggle not to laugh at the question he'd known was coming, partly because it was almost a relief to hear the words he'd been dreading for so long, and partly because it seemed like it should be obvious to Joxer why Ares wanted to see him. He had to remind himself almost constantly that Joxer didn't know they shared a history, that as far as he was concerned the boy he'd told all his secrets to as a child was long dead. There was really only one way to answer such a simple question, he just hoped that it would be the answer Joxer wanted to hear.

"Why shouldn't I spend my time with you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow when Joxer blushed again. "You fascinate me, Joxer. You've held my interest for longer than you know."

"But…" Joxer trailed off abruptly, blinking and then clearing his throat as he absorbed Ares' words. "But you've always ignored me whenever you came to see Xena. I didn't even think you knew who I was until you saved me."

"Not even gods have all the answers, Joxer." He didn't expect the other man to understand what he meant, but it was the only explanation he had for the way he'd acted for so long. He had no idea how to make Joxer understand how things had spun so far out of control, but he knew if he didn't try it would be the biggest regret of his existence. "Sometimes even we lose our way; we forget how much depends on us making the right choices, we make mistakes or lose our tempers. Sometimes we even fall in love."

For just a second Joxer's eyes got a little wider, and when a shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth Ares was almost sure he understood. Then the mortal shook his head and looked away again, and Ares felt his heart sink back into the pit of his stomach. "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. You've protected me in ways I could never thank you for, I shouldn't be second-guessing you now. Of course you have a life of your own, otherwise there wouldn't be much point to having all the power you have."

"Power comes with responsibility. There are times when even I've wished I could forget my obligations, if only just for a little while. But I've had to make hard choices for the good of my followers." He finally gave in to the urge to reach out, his hand curving around Joxer's cheek for a moment before it slid into his hair. "There are things I've given up that I regret."

He didn't miss the way Joxer turned just slightly into his touch, soft skin brushing against the roughness of his palm as the smaller man turned to look at him. His lips were slightly parted and Ares knew how easy it would be just to lean forward and claim them; Joxer probably wouldn't even protest, and part of him wanted to forget about confessing the truth. He wanted to believe that he could live with the secret of their past forever, but even as he felt himself leaning forward he saw the flicker of regret in the mortal's eyes. Instantly he pulled back, his hand falling lifelessly to his side as he stared at Joxer.

"You're thinking of your own regrets."

His only answer was a nod, but Ares didn't have to hear Joxer say the words to know what he was thinking about. It was painfully obvious that Timo would always be between them, at least as long as Joxer still mourned his death. The only choice was the truth; Ares had known that all along, and now there was no avoiding it. "When I said that things are sometimes best left in the past…"

"I'm sorry, Ares," Joxer said, and Ares couldn't help being impressed all over again by the mortal's quiet strength. He knew very few mortals that were brave enough to interrupt a god, and no mortal but Joxer had ever interrupted him. He had a feeling Joxer didn't even realize what he'd done, but in a way that made Ares admire him even more. Joxer never really treated him like something untouchable, not the way most of his warlords did. To them he was larger than life, a being they feared and worshipped because he could give them something they wanted. Joxer simply talked to him as though he were a person, and Ares was surprised to find how much he'd missed that over the years.

"There's no reason to be sorry," Ares answered. "There are things you should know, Joxer."

"It's just that I wish I could have seen him one more time," Joxer said, talking right over Ares as though he hadn't even heard him. Ares had a feeling he hadn't, because he was staring straight ahead and it was obvious he was focused on something he was remembering rather than seeing. "Just to know if he's okay, if he forgives me for leaving the way I did."

"You did what you had to do," Ares said, reaching out and laying a strong hand on the other man's arm. Joxer turned to look at him, but his expression was still laced with regret that Ares knew he wouldn't be able to erase. Maybe not ever, because part of Joxer was always going to feel guilty for not waiting to say goodbye. "You were only a child, Joxer. You were in danger and you had to go. He understood that."

"How could he? I never told him…" Joxer trailed off, his voice catching in his throat. It took a long moment before he pulled himself together enough to continue, clearing his throat and dragging a hand across his eyes before he looked up at Ares again. "I guess it doesn't really matter. At least I had a father, I don't even know where he was sleeping at night. What if he'd been living in those woods all that time? We could have gone away together, then none of this would have happened."

Ares felt his head shaking before he realized he'd moved, his hand leaving Joxer's arm to slide under his chin. He lifted Joxer's face as gently as he could manage, looking into startled brown eyes before he answered. "You didn't do anything wrong," he said, his mind racing as he searched for the right words to finally confess the truth. "Your Timo…he belonged to you, Joxer, just as you belonged to him. But he wasn't who…what you thought he was."

"What do you mean?"

His thumb was slowly stroking Joxer's jaw, keeping up a gentle caress as he struggled not to lose himself in those eyes he'd tried so hard to forget. Fifteen years had barely changed them at all, though, and he was having a hard time remembering that they weren't sitting by the stream outside his temple trading guesses as to what Olympus was like. "I mean that there are things you don't know about who he was…is. It's important that you remember how much he loved you, Joxer. That much was true."

Joxer's skin trembled under his touch, and he instantly wished he'd never said anything. The last thing he wanted to do was bring him any more pain, that was the rationale he'd used for keeping quiet for so long. Now that he'd started to tell Joxer the truth he couldn't take it back, but part of him wished more than anything that he could. Part of him wondered just how much trouble he'd be in if he turned back time to fifteen years ago, how much he'd upset the balance of the universe if he went back in time and told Joxer the truth the day he first left home.

He knew it wouldn't have mattered, though, not really. He still would have lied to Joxer for six years, and he wasn't willing to give up their time together even if it meant easing Joxer's pain now. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he couldn't stand the thought of never knowing the man staring back at him with a mixture of fear and hope shining in his eyes.

"Do you mean…is he still alive?" Joxer breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. His breath warmed the tip of Ares' thumb as he traced the curve of Joxer's lip, and he knew this was the only chance he'd ever have to set things right.

"He's very much alive," Ares answered, inching slowly closer to the other man as he spoke. He didn't notice that he wasn't breathing; it wasn't something he needed to do anyway, just a habit the gods had picked up to set mortals more at ease in their presence. All he was aware of was the soft warmth of skin beneath his fingers, the sound of Joxer's heart beating steadily against his chest, and the heat of breath against his skin as their mouths just barely brushed together. "He's me."

He wasn't sure if Joxer heard him, or if the meaning behind his words would even register. It couldn't have, because Joxer's mouth was moving against his and he felt a hand slide into his hair to tug him impossibly closer. He felt the other man's lips part under his and took the invitation gladly, swallowing a sob when he tasted the familiar sweetness of Joxer for the first time in fifteen years. He'd relived this so many times in his dreams that he was sure he remembered exactly what it felt like, but when Joxer's other hand curved around the back of his neck he knew no dream could ever do even that simple touch justice. There was no way he could have remembered the heat of skin moving against his, the shape of Joxer's fingers pressing against his neck or the way the other man's mouth fit against his just so.

Everything happened so fast that he wasn't sure how long it took for Joxer to realize what he'd said, but when he felt the body pressed against his tense and the hand on his neck pull away he knew what was coming. So he wasn't surprised when Joxer pushed him away and reached up to press slender fingers against his lips, his eyes wide with shock and accusation this time. "It was you."


End file.
